COUNTRYSIDE YARNS
TALL TALE OR TRUTH? YOU DECIDE!
Miss Nellie, Part 2
by Janis Stein

Join me in the continuation as Miss Nellie discovers Pa's homemade cider in the basement, and Ma and Pa solve the mystery of why the side of their house turned yellow.

Miss Nellie enjoyed her bedroom just fine, for it was plenty big enough with its walk-in closet, though without a grate in the floor, it did get mighty cold during the winter. Miss Nellie was never one to complain, however, and she settled into her nightgown before turning down her bed when she realized she had maybe drank a bit more cider than she recalled. The outhouse suddenly seemed a good deal farther away than what she wanted to walk, and being of a keen mind and a full bladder, Miss Nellie looked around to see how she might improvise.

Aha! The kerosene lantern sat in an old cooking kettle, the pot just big enough to squat over and when her business was completed, she felt more than a little welcomed relief. Though she paused long enough to wonder how she might dispose of the pot's contents, she didn't pause for long. Miss Nellie was a woman of action. Going to the window, she raised it carefully, though it creaked in protest as she did so. The wind had picked up a bit, and it would do no good to dilly-dally with the open window letting even more cold in, so with a hearty throw, Miss Nellie flung the contents of the pot out the upstairs window. Thrilled she had avoided a cold trip to the outhouse, Miss Nellie hunkered down under the thick homemade quilts until her dreams swept her away.

As Miss Nellie's practices continued, Ma and Pa noticed the west side of their house was taking on a sickly yellow color and, while at first the cause seemed insignificant, eventually they put two and two together, not at all liking the answer they came upon. Pa made sure never to pass under Miss Nellie's window after that. Ma, too, overlooked it as she had learned to overlook a good many things over the years, though she was a lady through and through and couldn't imagine why anyone couldn't make it to the outhouse should the need arise.

Miss Nellie was always kind to the children and that alone meant a great deal to Ma, so she didn't embarrass Miss Nellie with any questions about her behavior, instead going about her business as if all was well. Ma had the graciousness not to say anything either on the night Miss Nellie found her way home at 3 a.m. after her Friday night trip to the tavern, waking half the house as she plodded up the stairs in the wee hours of the morning. It took a bit longer for her to return than usual, for she had gotten quite warm and took the time to cool off and rest by sitting in a snowbank for a spell. Perhaps in her stupor, Miss Nellie missed her bedroom door, which was the first on the right, or maybe she was just cold and wanted a little body heat, for she crawled in between two of the little girls sleeping in the next room down the hall and there it was Ma found her in the morning.

As it turned out Pa's hard cider was one of the best recipes around, and Miss Nellie grew quite fond of slipping down to the basement whenever she felt the need to whet her whistle. The winter was a cold one and the short jaunt to Pa's basement met her needs quite nicely, rather than making the trek into town. As she sipped the homemade brew from the old quart jar, Miss Nellie couldn't help but admire Ma's rows and rows of canning jars, filled to the brim with berries, garden vegetables and plenty of meat, too, for refrigerators and freezers were still as big a pipe dream as a trip to the moon.

Miss Nellie's hunger pangs came out of nowhere, it seemed, and she thought perhaps a bit of pork would hit the spot as she selected one of Ma's jars off the shelf, though she eyed the canned beef, too, as a coyote might an injured gazelle. Selecting a jar and prying open the lid, Miss Nellie stuck her fingers in the narrow mouth as far as she could reach, pulling out a morsel or two and licking her fingers after each bite. When Miss Nellie couldn't retrieve anything more, she replaced the lid on the unused portion. Ma could certainly cook, Miss Nellie surely must have thought, as she hid the half-eaten jar of meat on the back of the shelf, licking her lips and savoring the last of the flavor. Miss Nellie found her midnight snack so satisfying, she helped herself to Ma's meat each and every time she sipped Pa's cider, even grabbing a potato from the bin from time to time, rubbing it clean before biting into it like an apple!

As the winter months knocked on spring's door, Ma's basement shelves emptied and, as the woman of the house took stock of how much food she had left to feed her family, her thoughts turned to the garden she would soon be planting again. Ma reached for a jar of beef, thinking it would go well for dinner with mashed potatoes and carrots. Her thoughts were interrupted, though, as her eyes bulged and her stomach revolted. Ma's mind was suddenly a rambling of thoughts as she realized her jar of beef was spoiled and half gone, too. Setting it aside she reached for another jar and another, finding a dozen in all that had been opened, half-eaten and rotten.

Ma sat right down on the basement stairs in bafflement and defeat. All that hard work, standing over the hot cook stove, canning and canning, and now 12 meals that she had been planning on to feed the hungry mouths surrounding her table were gone. The image of Miss Nellie's face loomed front and center in Ma's mind as she realized what had transpired. It didn't bother her Miss Nellie had helped herself if she was hungry, but the waste of what Miss Nellie had left behind was more than she could take and finally, finally, Ma, had had enough.

Miss Nellie was never seen much around those parts after Ma had discovered the rotten meat, and after the school year was over the board hired a new teacher for the succeeding year. Ma's children were surprised one day when they found Nellie's forgotten shotgun under the bed, which she had also stored behind the bookcase at the schoolhouse from time to time. Nellie must have remembered it, too, for one summer day she came back to retrieve it before going on her way once more.

Many of the children were sad to see Miss Nellie go for it meant their good times were over. Recess or not, the students were often allowed to go outside to play when their lesson was finished rather than move on to the next subject and continue their studies. As a result of Miss Nellie's teaching methods, a good number of students fell behind in their work, only to find the following year they had to work twice as hard to keep up.

As for Ma and Pa, life went on, as life will do, though Pa was right pleased when a number of summer thunderstorms washed the yellow stains from the side of his house. Each year when butchering time rolled around and Ma got out her canning jars, she, too, couldn't help but think of Miss Nellie and was thrilled the following spring when she found all her canning jars intact, especially those on the back of the shelf.

Whatever became of Miss Nellie, no one seems to know, but she certainly made an impression on everyone she met and, well, not everybody can say that, now can they?

Have a yarn you'd like to share? We'd be happy to spin it. You may write to Janis in care of The Lakeshore Guardian, 9697 Purdy Rd., Harbor Beach, MI 48441, or give us a call at 989-479-3448 to share your story.